


Breached

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Hermione Granger, Creature Fic, F/F, Femslash, Werewolf Lavender Brown, trapped together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: Five years after the battle of Hogwarts, Fenrir Greyback escaped from Azkaban in the bloodiest breakout in history. Auror Hermione Granger is charged with protecting his progeny, Lavender Brown.





	Breached

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for Round One of the Hermione’s Haven Hermione’s Personal Library Drabble Challenge. I was given Hermione/Lavender as a pair and everyone must use the prompt: “It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.” - J. K. Rowling
> 
> My sincere thanks to my anonymous alpha who will be named once the comp is over.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own JK Rowling nor anything to do with the magical world.

“ _Checkpoint one, breached._ ”

They’ve been sitting on the sofa for so long with nothing to entertain them except their past. It’s been four years since she’s seen Lavender, but the memories from their last night together are fresher than ever. The radio’s interruption of their silence is welcomed.

Hermione steals a deep breath and runs her palms over the knees of her blue jeans. Her head turns and she’s met with a nervous brown stare. Lavender’s chest rises and falls visibly and her lips are chapped where she’s been chewing on them all night.

“Won’t be long now,” Hermione tells her softly and tries to reassure her with a smile. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her eyes dance away from Hermione, land on the radio, and then stare out the window where the waning moon hangs high in the sky.

“We’ll catch him,” Hermione assures her as she reaches out for Lavender’s hand and pulls back before they touch. “Fenrir is making a mistake coming here tonight.”

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.” Lavender’s throat constricts. “You shouldn’t be near me right now.”

Hermione grows tired of the constant reminder that Lavender left her. She’s exhausted over it, even though it was buried for years until Greyback broke out of Azkaban. Now, she can’t escape it. Can hardly breathe because of it. And, somehow, Lavender can’t even look her in the eyes long enough for Hermione to catch the truth in them.

“I’m the best chance you have.”

“He’ll kill you.” Lavender’s eyes finally snap to hers, wide and fearful. There’s truth there, after all. “I can feel it.”

It’s not shocking; the DMLE figured that out shortly after Fenrir escaped. He’s already killed Muggles and wizards alike, and he’s got four of his progenies in his pack now.

Fenrir wants vengeance.

Hermione won’t let him have it.

_“Checkpoint two, breached.”_

“I can’t just sit here!” Lavender jumps from the sofa and crosses her arms. She begins to pace and continues to chew on her lip. “Couldn’t they have sent Harry? Ron? Anyone else?”

Hermione’s heart clenches.

“There’s a reason I never wanted to see you again.” Lavender keeps pacing, her gaze darts between the various windows. “Seeing you, being near you, I can’t—”

Her blonde hair slips away from her throat and Hermione’s eyes are drawn to angry, pink scars. Lavender’s condition never bothered Hermione, not until Lavender allowed it to push them apart. A part of her will always loathe Greyback.

Hermione stands in front of her and takes her by the arms. “Lav—”

“Eighth year shouldn’t have happened.” Lavender cuts her off in a desperate voice. “We had too much to drink. It was a dare. We shouldn’t have—”

“It was more than that,” Hermione demands. “I was falling in—”

“Stop!” Lavender covers her mouth with a slender hand and pleads with shiny eyes. “Hermione, what I am — there’s no future for me. I’m a monster, and—”

Hermione exhales sharply and pulls her hand away. “You’re _good,_ Lavender. Damnit, you are not your condition! I’ve told you—”

_“Checkpoint three. He’s all yours, Granger.”_

“Damn.” Hermione releases Lavender and grabs her wand from the holster on her thigh. “Sit on the sofa and don’t move.”

Lavender opens her mouth to argue, but Hermione cuts her off with a severe glare. As soon as Lavender is seated, Hermione stands beside the front door and presses herself to the wall. She peers out the closest window and sees nothing but shrubbery and the endless darkness of the country.

There’s a sudden rustle in the grass. A howl too close. The door shakes. Something scratches down its wooden frame, deep and gouging. Hermione steadies her breath and grips her wand tighter. Her eyes meet Lavender’s.

She won’t let him get to her, she _won’t_.

“Fe, fi, fo, fum.” His voice. Raspy, wolfish. Just outside the door. “I smell the blood of Mudblood scum.”

The door crashes open. The hinges burst apart and the wood splinters into a dozen pieces. Lavender screams, a high pitched shriek that causes Hermione’s blood to run cold. Hermione covers her face from the fragments of door and when she uncovers them, he’s framed under the arch of the door. Big, towering, lupine.

“Ah.” He breathes deeply and steps forward. “That was easier than I thought it would be. The Ministry is going soft.”

Hermione slashes her wand forward and a red spell emits from the end. Fenrir dodges and then lunges straight for her. She’s pinned to the wall by his body and his jaw snaps at her neck.

“Fenrir!” Lavender jumps from the sofa.“I’ll go with you!”

She has his attention. Greyback’s hands curl around Hermione’s wrists to hold her in place.

“Lavender, no!”

They ignore her. Greyback’s eyes study Hermione, his stale breath fans her face. She can almost hear his brain wrapping around the offer.

“Let her go and I’ll— just don’t hurt her.”

“No!” Hermione thrashes against him. “No!”

Fenrir knocks her to the ground with a clawed hand. Her face bleeds against the wood floors. He kicks her wand away and then takes Lavender by the arm.

She gasps in pain and struggles away. “Let me say goodbye. At least—”

He snarls and snaps his jaw.

“Don’t—” Hermione spits blood onto the floor. “You’re better than _him_. You’re not a monster!”

Hermione begs again: no — not for her, she’s better than that, over and over and over.

“I won’t let him hurt you.” Lavender ducks down to look in her eyes and plants a soft kiss on her forehead. “That’s not who I am.”

Fenrir grabs Lavender’s arm and drags her out of the door without another word.

The last thing Hermione sees are the bouncing golden curls she’s dreamt about for the past four years. She vows to save Lavender if it’s the last thing she ever does.


End file.
